JEDI MINDFULNESS AND CONCENTRATION
“Don’t center on your anxieties, Obi-Wan, keep your concentration here and now where it belongs.”
“But Master Yoda said I should be mindful of the future.”
“But not at the expense of the moment; be mindful of the living Force, young Padawan.”
—JEDI MASTER QUI-GON JINN AND OBI-WAN KENOBI IN THE PHANTOM MENACE
The Star Wars saga begins with mindfulness and concentration. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn reminds Obi-Wan, his Padawan, to be present and to keep his focus on the here and now. Qui-Gon’s advice is good. It sounds like something you might hear at your local Zen monastery or Buddhist center. Being attentive to the present moment, rather than centering on what might happen later, is as important to Buddhists as using the Force is to Jedi. Mindfulness and concentration are the basis of Buddhism—and the foundation of the Jedi arts. These two practices are necessary to break free from mental hang-ups and constricting worldviews. And they are vital to waking up to who you are—to seeing your true nature and the truth of reality. “Waking up” isn’t an intellectual endeavor. It’s not a nugget of knowledge you can add to all that Star Wars trivia you’ve got crammed between your lekku. Insight into your true nature comes from living the realized life, from bringing the spirit of awakening to everything you do. The spirit of awakening could be another name for mindfulness. It’s said that mindfulness is the energy that shines light on all things and everything we do. Mindfulness helps us see through our wrong perceptions and fears, and drop regret and worry. Mindfulness produces concentration, which leads to insight into the true nature of reality.
The way Qui-Gon uses the word “concentration” and the way Buddhists typically use it has a special meaning. We normally think of concentration as thinking about something really hard. That’s not how Qui-Gon (and Buddhists) use the word. He isn’t telling Obi-Wan to think about the present moment. He’s not really talking about thinking at all. He’s talking about fully engaging in the immediate moment at hand, without trying to describe, label, add, or subtract anything from it.
As Han Solo told Chewbacca when the Wookiee asked him how he’s supposed to fly the Millennium Falcon at a distance but not look like he’s trying to keep his distance: “I don’t know,” Han shouted. “Fly casual.” Concentration is simply doing what we’re doing. When we think about what we’re doing, everything becomes contrived—it’s impossible to be casual.
Mindfulness is awareness, attention, alertness. It’s the opposite of spacing out or living forgetfully. There is a Zen expression: “If we live in forgetfulness, we die in a dream.” Dreams can be lovely things (unless they’re the nightmares of Anakin Skywalker), but dreams aren’t real life. They’re like the Ewok trap with succulent meat that Chewie triggered in Return of the Jedi: they entice us with the promise of happiness, but when we reach out to grab them—wham—we’re suddenly the main course in a furball feast.
Yoda tells Luke that he has spent his entire life looking to the future. The future is a dream. It’s that place beyond the horizon where we believe happiness exists—once we finish with this or achieve that. If we live like this, we’ll just fall from one trap into another. The Buddhist practices of mindfulness and concentration are a wakeup call to cut ourselves free from the world of dreams and fantasies and come back to the only place we can live life and experience happiness—right now.
That’s not the way we usually live though, is it? If you’re like me, you probably tend to imagine that happiness comes later, like when I get done doing this thing I don’t want to do and can lie back with a cool cup of Jawa Juice and fire up my Netflix to The Clone Wars. The thing is, living in forgetfulness, or doing one thing while thinking about another, is a hard habit to break. When it comes time to enjoy some serious animated Star Wars action, it’s difficult to stop thinking about the next thing you’re going to do once the show is over. Ahsoka Tano could be turning the entire Jedi Order on its befuddled head, but I’m fretting about everything I’ve got to do at work tomorrow.
Mindfulness and concentration aren’t just about diving in and fully living the present moment, though; they’re also about waking up to the truth, seeing through stubborn views of right and wrong, and removing conceptual bonds that keep us from touching true happiness. Escaping your distracted mind, like escaping Detention Block AA-23, is a really big deal, not just for us but for everyone we interact with. Think about how one careless word, delivered in forgetfulness, can crush a person’s spirit. And what could one thoughtful word or deed delivered with mindfulness do?
In The Phantom Menace, Qui-Gon was gassed, attacked by droids, nearly blown out into space, and almost crushed by a droid transport ship when Jar Jar Binks stumbled into his path. By the time he reached Watto’s shop on Tatooine, his patience was as thin as Yarael Poof’s neck. “Don’t touch anything,” he snapped at Jar Jar in a moment of distraction as the Gungan toyed with a device in Watto’s shop. Jar Jar recoiled at the comment and reacted out of irritation. He flapped his python-sized tongue at the Jedi master. Later, when the pressures of finding a way off Tatooine were relieved by Anakin’s podrace victory, Qui-Gon approached the boy’s mother, Shmi, moments before he took him from her for forever (as far as she knew). “I’ll watch out for him. You have my word,” Qui-Gon assured her as he squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. Shmi was visibly grateful. Mindfulness made the difference between a careless word that wounded and a gentle touch that healed.
Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan to be mindful of the living Force. Being “mindful of the living Force” means recognizing that life isn’t just happening to us. We are happening to life. We are contributing to this world that everybody shares. We can make it a better place if we keep our concentration here and now. If we live in forgetfulness, we’ll just keep grumbling at people for being who they are. When we live in mindfulness, we’ll know what needs to be done to calm fears and soothe worried minds.
In A New Hope Luke Skywalker races his X-wing along the Death Star trench preparing to fire the proton torpedoes that would destroy the Empire’s ultimate weapon. Fiddling with his ship’s targeting computer, Luke hears Obi-Wan Kenobi’s voice, “Use the Force, Luke.” Unsure of himself, Luke dismisses the command and returns to what he believes he should be doing: targeting his mechanical scope for the crucial shot. Then the voice speaks again, “Let go, Luke.”
When we let go of the belief that what we need is outside of ourselves and outside of the present moment, we are able to rediscover our true nature and the strength and stability already present within us. Obi-Wan urged Luke to switch the targeting computer off and let go. Luke let go of the ideas he had about destroying the Death Star and he stopped thinking about velocity and targeting computers. He just did what he was there to do—make a one-in-a-million shot that would save the galaxy.
Obi-Wan talked about letting go even before the attack on the Death Star. Aboard the Millennium Falcon he ordered Luke, “Let go your conscious self and act on instinct.” The reason we’re so often dissatisfied is because of our belief in the “conscious self.” This idea of the self rests on the notion that we, the subject, stand apart from the world, our object. As such we are always trying to blast away aspects of the world we don’t like and target and acquire what we do. We’re rarely at ease with the way things are right now. When we are at ease, the apparent distinction between subject and object, you and the world, falls away. When you “let go your conscious self,” you come into direct contact with reality.
This may sound weird, difficult to achieve, or maybe a little delusional. In truth we are in direct contact with life all the time, we’re just not aware of it—nor could we be.
I read once that ten million lightsabers are sold every year. That’s a lot of black eyes and cracked teeth. Despite the injuries, lightsaber battles are fun—especially when you’ve got plenty of room to maneuver and can really get into it: you eye your opponent and react to her moves, or you go all Sith offensive and pummel her defense with a furious barrage. You circle each other, the plastic blades go slap crack, your pulse quickens, and dewy sweat pops out on the skin beneath your hood. You’re not fighting with a plan. You aren’t even thinking. When you step out of your own way and let the parries and attacks come naturally, you’re acting on instinct—your conscious self forgotten.
This is getting into direct contact with reality. You are mindful, present, doing what you’re doing. There is no “you,” no “lightsaber,” no “fight.” There’s no concept of a “conscious self” to get in the way. There’s only the seamless whole of the lightsaber duel. At the moment of experience, we and the experience are one. It’s only when the “conscious self” arises and we parse ourselves from experience that the direct connection with reality is broken. Then we experience our lives filtered through concepts.
Luke was one with the Force at that instant he fired the proton torpedoes into the thermal exhaust port. There was no distinction between his self and the target; there was just the experience. If he had not let go of conscious self, he would not have succeeded in his mission of destroying the Death Star.
By developing what both the Buddha and the Jedi call mindfulness, we can also let go of the concepts that separate us from directly experiencing reality.
The method for developing mindfulness is easy to understand, yet surprisingly difficult to put into practice. The practice requires us to focus our awareness on what is going on within us and around us at this instant; it requires us to be mindful of the living Force. When we read this book, we know we are reading this book. If our thoughts drift off to what we are going to eat for dinner, or what events we have scheduled tomorrow, or what we would do if we had Jedi powers, then we are not reading mindfully. When you are reading, focus on reading. When standing, sitting, or lying down, focus on standing, sitting, or lying down.
Being mindful and staying present with life as it constantly changes, rather than thinking one thing while doing another, is much more difficult than it sounds. We may try to comply with Qui-Gon’s advice to keep our concentration on the here and now, but mindfulness and concentration are not light switches we can simply turn on. We cannot just decide to be mindful and be done with it. Mindfulness takes practice.
It is difficult to be mindful right out of the gate because many of us have lived in distraction for years and even decades. Yoda once observed of Luke, “Never his mind on where he was, what he was doing.” His observation could easily be applied to us. Our minds are rarely in touch with where we are and with what we are doing. We have accumulated many years of living without mindfulness—doing one thing mechanically while thinking about another—and this habit of living distractedly has become ingrained in us.
In fact, the habit of living distractedly is so strong in many of us it has become like a runaway podracer pulling us along. We try to wrest back the controls, but the energy of the thing is too strong. We are swept away by the habit energy of distraction and carelessness, and before we know it we’ve crashed into the side of Beggar’s Canyon, bringing hardship to ourselves and others.
It’s nearly impossible to truly understand mindfulness based on a description in a book. So let’s get an idea of what it means by trying it out. After you read these instructions, stop reading for just a minute or two and try it out.
• Sit upright and breathe naturally.
• Turn your attention to your breath.
• Try to remain attentive to your in-breath, from its beginning all the way until it turns to become an out-breath.
• Try to remain attentive to your out-breath, from the moment it begins until it turns to become an in-breath again.
• Simply rest your attention on the breath in this way, following the cycle of the breath for a few minutes.
• When you find you have become distracted, simply return your attention to the breath.
Now you have directly understood mindfulness of breathing. (Give yourself a Wookiee roar of approval!) I say “mindfulness of breathing” because mindfulness is always mindfulness of something. Just plain mindfulness doesn’t exist.
Luke Skywalker learned mindfulness of breathing on his first visit to Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back. While climbing up vines, dashing through the undergrowth, leaping logs and rocks, the young Jedi pupil, his master on his back, is being instructed on the dangers of the dark side of the Force. Luke’s mind races with a thousand questions about the dark side: is the dark side stronger than the good side of the Force, how can he distinguish it from the good, and why can he not do certain things? Luke’s questions come in such a rapid-fire manner that it is clear to Master Yoda that Luke has lost touch with what he is doing in the here and the now. Noticing this, and sensing Luke’s mind was running away from him, he brings the lesson to an end. “Nothing more will I teach you today,” Yoda says. “Clear your mind of questions.” With these words, Yoda is inviting Luke to leave behind the world of questions, concepts, and ideas, and return to the direct experience of life.
Often when we have concerns about a future event or confusion about the way something works, our mind becomes lost in a labyrinth of questions, doubts, and plans. Aware of this tendency, Yoda stops Luke before he becomes bewildered, rather than empowered, by his education and training. By directing Luke to clear his mind of questions, Yoda is instructing the Jedi student to come back to the present moment—to return to his breath. Luke does as he is told and the conceptual web he’s wrapped himself in almost instantly unravels.
Mindfulness of breathing is the practice of simply concentrating on the breath. We note that a breath is long or short when it’s long or short. We simply note the breath; we don’t try to hold it or force it; we do not alter its rhythm or change its volume. Don’t hold on to the idea that breathing should happen in a certain way. Simply become aware of the way the body naturally breathes.
As you practice mindfulness of breathing you may discover that the podracer of the mind—the speeding train of thoughts—kicks into a lower gear and slows down. At other times the mind may rocket into hyperspeed, seemingly accompanied by the roar of cheering spectators. Sometimes the mind is just like that—a cacophony of voices and clatter. We do not practice mindfulness of breathing to produce one state or reject another. We practice in order simply to be present to our lives right now—regardless of whether it’s chaotic or calm.
Mindfulness of breathing is like a droid restraining bolt that keeps us anchored to the present moment. Like Jawas trying to lure us from our homes and into their greedy clutches, habits of distraction and overthinking pull us away from the here and now. Mindfulness of breathing is the restraining bolt that keeps us from wandering away from the safety of the present.
Without the restraining bolt of mindfulness we can be swept away by ideas and emotions. But by making good use of the restraining bolt, we can avoid being swept away. We can just watch our emotions and thoughts rise up like a sandstorm across the Dune Sea. Sandstorms rise and fall; that is their nature. Emotions and thoughts are the same way. Because we have our restraining bolt of mindfulness, we don’t get carried away by our inner sandstorm and so we do not act rashly, based on temporary feelings.
The Jedi practices of mindfulness and concentration help us to discover ourselves and the ways we create dissatisfaction and frustration. Whether you’re sitting on a meditation cushion, on the toilet, or in the navigator’s seat on a spice freighter, the practice is to bring mindfulness to everything you’re doing. This may seem like a pain in the ass (after all, that’s a lot of sitting), but when you’re not juggling a million things in your head, life becomes far less muddled and far more open to peace and joy. This type of practice doesn’t have an expiration date; it is a lifelong practice without a finish line.
When you live your life with the spirit of waking up to who you are, realization can come at any moment. The Buddha, who in our galaxy was the first person to talk about mindfulness, realized his true nature when he saw the morning star after sitting under a tree all night. Zen Buddhism is full of stories about people who woke up due to a teacher’s gesture, a smack to the head, or the sound of a rock caroming off a stick. Bring mindfulness to everything you do and who knows, maybe you’ll see the truth the next time you fumble with your lightsaber trying to pull off the famous Whirlwind of Destiny move.
Mindfulness is a method of observation, not a means of becoming a different person. We don’t need to become anything, we need only observe our feelings, thoughts, and the world around us. Carefully observing the world in this way can produce insight into its nature, which in turn brings a deep sense of peace and liberation. True and impartial observation does not turn away from uncomfortable truths but sees both the good and the bad, the light side and the dark, with clear eyes. Throughout Star Wars we see the Jedi practicing mindfulness and concentration not only as a means to better understand the Force but also as a means of preparing to face the dark side within.